


Underworld Home Decor

by KatieNoctem



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellenistic Religion & Lore, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Demigods, Gen, I may have been reading Percy Jackson and it rubbed off on me, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieNoctem/pseuds/KatieNoctem
Summary: She always thought Hell would have nicer drapes





	Underworld Home Decor

She stood at the entrance to the underworld, eyes glancing at the cold stone walls as she took a final deep breath and stepped across the threshold. She had expected the cold, in all the stories the cold had been a given. She had expected the darkness, for what light shines in the darkest depths of the earth? What she hadn’t expected as the falling. As she crossed the threshold between earth and the underworld the world dropped away from beneath her feet and she found herself falling, her body twisting over and over as she plummeted through the darkness and the cold.

 

If she had expected the landing to hurt she had been wrong. The ground looked like solid stone, but the landing was little more painful than falling out of bed and onto plush carpet. She still lay with her eyes closed for a few moments, contemplating whether the effort of standing was worth it. But she had come here for a reason, and she couldn’t get it done without getting up off her back and doing something. Groaning she pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around. Apparently she had fallen right into what looked like a main hall, or… she squinted slightly at the far end of the hall, a throne room? Wow, skip right past everything and land right in the goal. That worked out well for her. Though, she thought looking around more carefully, she had always imagined that Hell would have nicer drapes. Maybe a little more décor. At least at its center. A rug wouldn’t have gone amiss, the landing may not have hurt, but as she spent more time sat on the cold stone it started to dig into her skin.

 

Slowly she got to her feet, eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. She peered around warily, half expecting an army of skeletons to burst forth to restrain her, or perhaps a giant three headed dog. Instead all she was greeted by was empty space and a cold breeze. Taking a deep breath she started to walk towards the throne, before a voice from the shadows stopped her dead in her tracks.  
“And how does a living _human_ find themselves in my kingdom?”  
That was not the voice she expected to hear. She turned, looking into the darkness, watching as a horned head appeared. The body attached to it was not what she expected, not the look, or the gender (not, she thought, that she should be judging) or… anything. She narrowed her eyes slightly.  
“Who are…?”  
The woman, the Goddess, smiled. “I am Hela, and this is Helheim.” She purred, gesturing with one rotted hand to the space around her. “Now, I’ll ask once more. What are you doing here human?”  
The living girl scowled. “I’m not a human.” She huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “I was looking for my dad, seems I got to the wrong hell.”  
Hela stared, completely baffled. “Explain.”  
“My dad, his name is Hades… uh, Greek God of the underworld.” The living girl shrugged. “I was meant to go there, must have got the wrong entrance.”  
“My father is also a God.” Hela smiled. “Loki of Asgard.”  
“And your mother is a giantess isn’t she?” The demi goddess smiled back. “Mine was just human.”  
“Are you a scholar that you should know so much?”  
The demi goddess shook her head, noticing the look of wonder on Hela’s face. “A scientist, but one who was curious about mythology. I don’t mean to be rude, but I would like to find my father. Can you help?”  
Hela whistled and the spirit of a Raven came and sat on her shoulder. She murmured to it in what the demi goddess assumed was Old Norse, given her own affinity for Ancient Greek, and the bird took to the air. Hela turned back to the girl and gestured to a bench that materialised out of thin air.  
“Sit, while the raven looks for your Helheim we can talk.”

 

When the raven finally returned the two girls were deep in conversation, comparing their respective fathers and upbringings. Behind the raven came the sound of hoofbeats and a ghostly horse appeared in the middle of the room. The demi goddess looked up and sighed.  
“That looks like my ride… could I perhaps… if it’s, well, if it’s no trouble…”  
“You may return. Any time you like.” Hela smiled.  
Blushing furiously and with a wide grin on her face the half-blood mounted the ghostly mount and disappeared.


End file.
